Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Redemption
by StylinShrimp
Summary: Set after the end of the game. Now that Alex has saved the world, what is there left to do?
1. Chapter 1

Sanity's Redemption  
  
My name is Alexandra Roivas.  
  
One month ago, I was humanity's last hope for survival.  
  
Don't believe me? You think my last name being "savior" spelled backwards was a fluke?  
  
I only wish. It might've saved my grandfather from being violently mutilated. It also might've saved my ancestor from descending into madness and murdering his servants in their sleep.  
  
It also might've saved me from the life ahead of me.  
  
My name is Alexandra Roivas, and I was humanity's savior.  
  
But now I've got nothing to save humanity from.  
  
So now what do I do?  
  
***************************************************  
  
The Tome of Eternal Darkness is still in my possession, currently gathering dust in my grandfather's study.  
  
The three other artifacts are there as well, resting on the cluttered desk. For some reason, I feel like they should be put in some sort of special place. Pedestals, or something. After all the trouble The Chosen went through to bring them to me, it doesn't feel right that they're just thrown on the desk. Still, for now, they remain there.  
  
I have gradually made my family's mansion my own, installing a computer and internet connection in the library. It's a beautiful thing, the internet. I now almost never have to leave the mansion. Whether this is a good thing or not, I have not yet decided.  
  
I'm searching the internet for some of the people mentioned in the Tome. Why, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps I need to find the people who understand what I did. Maybe I want to tell the people I can that the battle is over, and their hard work allowed me to succeed. Maybe I could thank them.  
  
Fuck, maybe I'm just curious.  
  
The first name I look up is Peter Jacob, the wartime journalist. I'm not expecting much from this search except an obituary, considering the incident described in the tome happened 89 years ago, which would make him over 100 today. I'm more curious as to when and how he died.  
  
I get my answer soon enough.  
  
I turn up an article from a local newspaper dating back to 1983, the year he gave my grandfather the artifact, describing a horrific car crash. A taxi cab apparently collided head-on with another car in the opposite lane, causing a chain reaction of crashes for several miles in each direction. Traffic was blocked for hours while the mess was cleaned up. 10 people died.  
  
Among them, the taxi cab's passenger, 89 year old Peter Jacob.  
  
This all happened on a local road, a few miles from the estate. He must've been on his way home from visiting my grandfather.  
  
The police end up never finding a cause for the initial crash. The car was simply too mutilated.  
  
I know the cause though. It's them.  
  
Had they gotten him a few hours earlier..I shudder at the thought.  
  
The next name I search for is Edwin Lindsey, the archeologist. I expect a better result from this search, but don't find it. The last time anyone has heard from him is when he declared he was going to go to South America. His plane crashed in a remote rainforest, killing the pilot. Edwin's body wasn't found. This was five years ago, and for the past five years he's been declared missing, but most likely dead.  
  
Two down, one to go.  
  
Michael Edwards, the Canadian industrial firefighter, is much more difficult to search for, since both his names are so common. I type in his name, and I get everything from composers to web-page designers to a film actor. I add his career and nationality to the search, in the hopes of narrowing it down.  
  
It works.  
  
I find yet another news article, this time from a Canadian national newspaper based in Toronto. A sob catches in my throat as I read it.  
  
Michael Edwards killed himself.  
  
As well as his fiancee, which I didn't know he had. Although it isn't likely the Tome would've discussed his love life.  
  
What apparently attracted the national paper to it was the unusual way the bodies were found. They both were laying in bed, wrists slit, knife in Michael's hand, and a message carved into each of their chests:  
  
"Never go into the darkness."  
  
The paper wrote about the shocking irony that this sort of message should be found on a dead body, but it's not ironic to me. I guess he just wanted to beat them to the chase. He was willing to die, but he wanted to die at his own hands, not the hands of the Ancients. As for his fiancee, perhaps he wanted to protect her. Or she was told of what happened, and wanted to die with him, so she could avoid the darkness as well.  
  
And that's everybody. Of The Chosen, I'm the only one left. I expect to feel a bit more sadness at this, or cry, or something. But now, the only thing I can do is turn off the computer and trudge upstairs to bed.  
  
********************************************  
  
"It's very nice to see you again Alex."  
  
I look at the man in front of me strangely. Why I had never seen before would know my name is completely beyond me. The fact that he's dressed as a Roman warrior adds to the strangeness.  
  
As if he's read my thoughts, the man says "You don't recognize me, do you?"  
  
I slowly shake my head.  
  
The man nods in understanding and steps toward me. "This was my form before I was taken as an agent for the Ancients."  
  
I cock my head and say, quietly:  
  
"...Pious?"  
  
He smiles. "Yes child. I was once a human."  
  
"I know that. Which is why your desire to destroy the human race is." I caught myself, "was so unbelievable. Why destroy your own kind?"  
  
"I could ask you the same about saving it. Especially now."  
  
"How could you ask that? And why now?"  
  
"Look what happened." he croons as he struts toward me, "You saved mankind from a fate worse than death. You brought about a new age in humanity. And have you gotten anything in return? A vote of thanks from anyone? Will they write about you in history books? No. The entire race was so blind, they didn't see the danger they were in every day. And if I had succeeded, they would not have even known what hit them. As is, if you had told them what you did, they'd just throw you in an asylum like they did with your psychotic ancestor."  
  
This throws me off for a minute, but I refuse to let it show. He, meanwhile, continues.  
  
"And what is this great race that you just saved? This races that kills, rapes, and destroys whatever it can. Yours is the only species that kills each other for reasons other than survival. Did you know that?" he chuckles, though I don't know what is particularly funny, and goes on, "Your men constantly think of new ways to kill each other, your women whore themselves on the streets, and your children kill each other on the playground. The human race was on a path to destruction long before I tried to put it there. And it continues on that path even after you 'saved' it."  
  
I stand and glare, determined not to cry despite how much I want to. Everything in me is telling me that I should kill him where he stands. Yet all I can do is stand there and convince myself that he wasn't right.  
  
He's barely a breath away now, looking down at me in an almost loving way.  
  
"You know what to do."  
  
With that he leans down and kisses me, with such ferocity that I can hardly react to the action.  
  
I bolt upright in my bed, stride to the bathroom, and spend the rest of the night throwing up.  
  
*******************************************  
  
This dream has been haunting me for a week now, and it's always the same. Each time, Pious gives me the same speech, each time I can't react, and each time he kisses me, leaving me feeling filthy when I wake up. I have taken to having showers in the morning, as opposed to before I go to bed, like before, to wash myself clean of the feeling. Part of it is because the dream is so vivid. I can even feel his facial hair scratch my face and mouth.  
  
Of course, I know what Pious means by "You know what to do." He wants me to do what he had tried to do: summon an ancient. I had almost done it once already, and with the three artifacts in the study and the magical array in my basement, I could easily do it again.  
  
Do I want to? 


	2. Chapter 2

I guess some time out of the house is all I need.  
  
Roivas Estate is just about half an hour from Providence, the closest thing to a cityI'm going to find in Rhode Island. So, half an hour later, I've parked my car and am now walking the city streets. There's a heavy dampness in the air, caused by the evaporation of the recent rainfall, and the roads shine with leftover moisture.  
  
It isn't long before my legs tire from walking, and the dank air begins to annoy me. Almost in desperation, I duck into a small tavern. The damp in the air is now replaced by cigarette smoke, tinted by the odor of stale alcohol. I order a beer, ignoring the fact that I'm driving home. I've developed quite an ability to hold alcohol, something I most likely acquired from my grandfather. This, of course, was the same man who fought the forces of darkness with a double shotgun, and a flask of "liquid courage".  
  
The din in this place is unbelievable. So many people talking at once, the words aren't even coherent anymore. And although I'm almost smothered between the bar and the bodies, I still feel separated from everything. It's like, if I were to look at this scene from someone else's point of view, I'd see the crowd of people, and then I would see me, the blonde with the dark eyes, sitting calmly in my own little space, like the eye of a hurricane. It's very lonely.  
  
Now, I am truly alone.  
  
I've never really been too fond of public gatherings, like parties, or bars, or what have you. Granted I could always find some friends to hang out with, but I was never really a "social butterfly". Yet, even then.  
  
"You were always alone."  
  
The familiar voice sends chills creeping down my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Pious Augustus, dressed in modern street clothes, sit next to me. Whether he is real, or a hallucination of sorts, I do not know, nor do I care to test. If my encounter with the Ancients has taught me anything, it's that my senses can be the greatest liars of all. Whatever it is will either disappear, or I'll deal with it later.  
  
Pious chuckles and leans against the bar, facing the crowd. It looks like he's looking for someone, but I can't tell very well out of my peripheral vision. However, I still refuse to look directly at him and give him the satisfaction of an acknowledgement.  
  
He motions to someone in the far corner. "She has a young child sitting in the basement, wondering where his mommy went."  
  
I furrow my brow, and follow Pious' line of vision to a young brunette. She looks to be around my age, maybe even younger, and having the time of her life. My eyes dart back and forth between her and Pious, wondering. "How did I know that? It's amazing how well you can read people in my state. Look over there."  
  
Now Pious is looking at a young man just ahead of us. Around his 30's, maybe. The young man comes over to the bar and reaches for a drink, sticking his arm through the middle of Pious' chest. Pious cackles at the action, as if he had just been tickled. A chuckle and a sigh later, he continues.  
  
"He's drinking to forget the death of his best friend, caused at his own hands. Apparently, the bastard owed him money for..well, it doesn't really matter now, does it?"  
  
I growl under my breath and turn back to my drink, infuriated that this apparition still haunted me.  
  
A minute or two later, I feel a cold touch on my shoulder. Pious. I don't even have to turn my head. I expect a kiss, or something equally humiliating.  
  
Instead.  
  
"How old does she look to you?"  
  
I look toward where Pious gestures and shudder. The girl he's talking about can't be more than 14 or 15 years old, not much more than a child. She's talking and laughing with a twenty-something year old man. The situation makes me sick, just looking at it.  
  
"He's trying to think of the easiest way to sneak the Roofie in his pocket into her drink without her knowing. Although, considering he already has her drunk beyond recognition, that shouldn't be too hard." he concludes with a light giggle.  
  
I let out a slow exhale, send one last icy glare to Pious, and look back at my drink.  
  
"You say I forget what it means to be human. On the contrary, I remember perfectly well what being human is. Why else do you think I chose the path I did?"  
  
Silence.  
  
Pious shrugs, "You know what to do." And with that, he's gone.  
  
I sit, seethe, look at my drink.  
  
I look back to the man with the underage drink. They're still laughing.  
  
.disgusting.  
  
"Redgormor.Mantorok.Antorbok" Before I even think, I've magically attacked the pedophile. He convulses wildly, while his date looks on in fright, before falling out of his chair onto the floor. No one pays him any mind, deciding he must have just been drunk out of his mind. His date drops to the floor beside him and attempts to make sure he's ok. I stroll over to him casually, push aside his girlfriend, and root through his pockets.  
  
Sure enough, I pull out a small bottle with some very familiar-looking pills inside.  
  
I stand up and look at the child, who's now gaping at me like it's her first time at the circus.  
  
"He wasn't good for you anyway honey."  
  
With that, I walk quickly out of the bar.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
I've put the artifacts back on the podiums in the basement. That seems like the best place for them. And that way they won't take up space.  
  
I ignore the fact that I've inadvertently reactivated the array. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Stop it! I won't hear it!" I scream as I run into the mansion, covering my ears. I'm sure I look very crazy at this point, but I don't care anymore. I feel the spirit of Pious Augustus follow me to the foyer.  
"You know I'm right, Alex. You know I spoke the truth in that bar, and you know I continue to speak true. I was going to give the human race what it deserved, and you know it."  
"Those people in the bar don't represent all humans. There are good people." I try to conceal the panic in my voice, but I feel I do a terrible job.  
"Good people," he scoffs, "like your grandfather."  
At this, I feel my gaze contort to a stony glare.  
"Don't you dare speak of my grandfather in that tone Pious!" I spit, "You don't even deserve to have his name on your tongue."  
He ignores me and asks, with a twinge of concern thrown into his voice for effect:  
"How did your parents die, Alex?"  
The question confuses me, and the confusion shows on my face.  
"They.they died in a fire. Our house burned down one night while grandfather was staying with us. He got me out and called the fire department, but they couldn't save my parents."  
"Ah yes, this would be 'the accident', wouldn't it?" Pious says mockingly.  
"It was an accident." I argue.  
"Alex," Pious shakes his head at me, "after what you've been through you should know that there are no accidents."  
I gape at Pious.  
"What? What do you." as the realization of his implication comes to me, I growl, "If you, or the Ancients, had anything to do with my parents' deaths, I swear."  
"First of all young lady, there isn't anything else you can do to me, and you're hardly in a position to threaten as much. Second of all, I am hardly deserving of your venom as far as this 'accident' goes."  
I'm about to ask what he is talking about, again, but a flash of light interrupts me.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Where the hell are we?" I ask as I rub the flash out of my eyes.  
"Look around and tell me yourself." Pious responds impatiently.  
The room is very tiny, and with the lights off it's difficult to see. Nevertheless, between the moonlight shining from the open window and the tiny nightlight on the wall, I can see enough. I recognize the tiny bed with unicorns on the blanket, the large toy box where a rag-doll is tossed haphazardly on the top of it, and most importantly, the scrawny four-year- old with stringy blonde hair curled up under the covers.  
"This is my room.in my parents house."  
"And the girl."  
".is me."  
The footsteps from down the hall startle me back to attention, and I look toward the doorway. In the darkness, I can barely make out my grandfather, setting something by the doorway, then stepping into my room. Quietly, so as not to wake me I presume, he creeps over to my bed and kneels down. Even with the limited light, I can see the love for me in his eyes. I had seen that same love in his eyes millions of times for many years after this. He gently strokes strands of blonde hair away from my smooth young face, rests his hand on my cheek for a minute, leaves a soft kiss on my forehead, gets up, and walks out. I feel a lump come to my throat at this. All of the sudden, I'm overwhelmed with longing for these days, and a sudden awareness of how alone I really am now.  
I'm jerked back to attention when Grandfather walks back into the room. This time, he is carrying the thing he had set by the door earlier. In the darkness, I can barely make out a carton and a spout. Slowly and methodically, Grandfather tips the carton, spilling the liquid inside onto the floor, onto my toys, and around my bed. I gape in horror as I feel the scent of gasoline drift to my nose.  
"What is he.?" My question hangs in the air as grandfather takes out a match, and, with shaking hands, lights it. I see his expression, wrought with pain, in the light of the match before he drops in onto the floor.  
"Grandfather! No!" But my pleas go unheard as I see my childhood bedroom engulfed in flames in a matter of seconds. Shielding his face, my grandfather runs away, leaving me to burn.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Another flash of light later, Pious and I are standing outside the house, watching the fire. The fire department has arrived by now, and are trying to contain the flames. I look over and see Grandfather, looking at the flames with a blank expression on his face. What's wrong? I think to myself, Don't you want to look all nice and concerned for the people, so they don't suspect? At this point, I am still too shocked at what I just saw to even react. After a few minutes, one of the firefighters goes over to my grandfather to update him on the situation, a conversation I manage to overhear.  
".unfortunately, it looks like we got to the parents too late."  
"What about the daughter?"  
"We've still got someone in there for her, but it doesn't look good."  
"Everyone! Look!" One of the other firefighters yells and points at the house.  
I look toward the house to see a firefighter running out, holding a bundle in a blanket close to his chest. When he gets to my grandfather, I see my 4-year-old self look out from the blanket, tired, disoriented, and very confused. My grandfather takes me in his arms and looks at the firefighter.  
"How can I thank you.?"  
"Paul. Paul Augustine."  
Grandfather gets a bewildered look on his face as the firefighter lifts the helmet off his head. By the shocked and disgusted expression on Grandfather's face, and his sudden move to bury my face in his chest, I can tell that he sees what I'm seeing; Pious Augustus in his demonic form.  
The last thing I see is Pious, the hero of this story, walking away, a smug grin stretching across his skeletal face.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The human mind is an amazing thing, and there is a great deal it can take. What it cannot take, however, is when the world around it is turned upside down. When it realizes that the thing it learned to love is an enemy, and that it owes it's continued existence to something it had grown to hate, something gives. At what point during either of these realizations Alex Roivas snapped, no one knows. But when it happened, it wasn't loud, or violent. Most people may not even have been able to see it, had they been there. But the astute would've been able to see the spirit and consciousness of Alex Roivas leave her body as she walked slowly down into the basement, to the Ruins of Ehn'gha. She could still move, still live, barely, but something was noticeably different.  
  
Alex Roivas was now no more.  
  
Darkness had taken over. 


End file.
